THE JO-TEL …believes some of what Nathaniel and John say, but believes England is still our sovreign

Okay,

So I’m not going to say I was dragged to Banana Split. After two nights of drinking without spending any money, less a 3:30am meal at Denny’s on Saturday, I was informed that Mate’s girl, Jenna, was on the guest list for Sunday night plus a bunch. It was DJ AM’s birthday party and despite questionable taste in rail-thin mini-hos, he’s not all that bad of a DJ. I was discussing with Hilary the potential for people watching would be too great to pass up. Devon Aoki? Cory Kennedy? Nicole Ritchie doing lines off the top of the toilet in between bouts of self-induced birthday cake removal, crying hysterical probably.

Oh yeah.

Plus Dank was in town. So I went. After a pretty manageable 15 minutes of waiting while dudes in white jackets and girls in gold tights were ushered past the velvet rope, we got in. I made a bee-line to the free keg on the dance floor. Being frat boys, we employed the proper hovering and schmoozing techniques to get about five beers each before the line for cups got too long, at which point we retired to the smoking area. You’d think none of those people had ever seen double fisting before… I chalked it up to jealousy.

While discussing the finer points of Bone Thugs with Dank, I saw a girl emerge out of the bathroom that looked … familiar. She was blonde … but you never know what color hair that traitor Lohan will be rocking these days … anything but red. After watching her melt into the dance floor, I turned to Mate and said “I’m about 20% I just saw Lohan.” I said 20% because I hadn’t gotten a good look at her, and because I just didn’t think she’d be there, and because I need new glasses.

About five minutes later, Jenna came high-heel shuffling into the back room: “Dan, get your camera. Lindsay Lohan is here!”

“I TOLD you! I FUCKING told you.”

We walked out into the main room and I’m staring right at the table where she’s at, not seeing her. There’s only one girl sitting at the table and it’s not the girl in the blue shirt I saw come out of the bathroom. It’s some chick in a striped shirt.

Yeah, turns out the girl I thought was Lohan was not Lohan, but Lohan was there. The only logical explanation is that I have a the Spiderman-like power to sense her presence. This superpower, while not combined with super strength and web-slinging powers, could probably be put to good use. I could be Michelle Trachtenberg’s body guard, for instance … or Bruce Willis’s wingman:

Bruce: What do you sense, PETE? Anything?

PETE: Mmm… no one under 21.

Bruce: Fuck this, let’s go to Cinespace.

So there’s a big group of people standing around gawking, including us … trying the whole “hey, you guys get together here in a picture … okay great now let me just turn the camera … this way aaaand … she looking right at us abort! abort!” Luckily, Jenna found the pair of balls had misplaced about, oh … 12-13 months ago and agreed to walk up and ask her to take picture with us. I was shocked that she obliged but she was total nice about it. Jenna went first and Lohan actually managed a half-smile for her…

I didn’t say anything to her. I didn’t bust out the whole “You look like a young Ann Margaret” speech I’ve been honing to an obsidian edge over the past few years. But that’s cool … I’m pretty stoked about it anyhow … I don’t ever care that it’s a terrible picture.

A few other observations: She wasn’t drinking booze that I could see. She’s got decent moves. DJs need to stop playing “Young Folks.” Maybe that dude with the blog was right. DJ AM’s cake looked delicious. I spent 0 dollars.

Here are some links to articles about Lohan dancing.

PS I think the premier of Entourage season 4 is tonight at the Arclight. They sent an intern from work, which is a shame because I was looking forward to checking out Paris’ new giant fake boobs slash best bra ever. I’m leaning towards bra only because every picture I’ve seen of her with late ridiculous cleavage only shows the tops of the boobs, much akin to the Britney Spears inflatable bra period of the early 00s, but the jury is still out.

Here is another picture. Some have commented on Lohan’s ridiculous white hat. It was not hers. It was this guy’s.

Some of you may have noticed that I now put a space on both sides of an ellipsis. I’m trying something new, as ber Chicago Manual of Style, the sleeper for greatest bathroom book ever.

-PETE